The Mortal Instruments: A New Story (fanfiction)
by LivingTwice
Summary: Cordelia Johnson, better known as CJ, just wanted to read a book at the park in peace. Until she dropped it. She learned that all the stories are true, and there's something called the Shadow World, and it's as real as ever. With a war to prep for and new friends that might get killed, Cordelia can't let anything slip, even after she reveals her true Shadowhunter name.
1. Unmend

_But now, I am also learning this: We can be mended. We mend each other._

CJ lowered the book she was reading from her eyes, now finished. "It can't be over yet," she mumbled to herself. It was a bittersweet conclusion of all three books, but she still didn't want it to end.

She looked around the park from the swing she was sitting on, noticing how everyone, all the toddlers and their parents or grandparents or baby sitters, were carrying on with their normal lives. All the sixteen-year old could do was stare, not letting anyone else notice she was near tears because of that book.

"Hey, CJ!" She heard someone call from behind. That's what everybody called her: CJ. Her initials. Cordelia Johnson.

She turned around, noticing her best friend, Brianna. "What're you doing here?" CJ's friend asked. Before she could reply, Brianna said, "Are you _seriously_ reading a book? During winter break? You've gotta be freakin' kidding me, we are getting you somewhere interesting for _once_." At that, Brianna pulled CJ off from the swing hard, making her drop the beloved book on the snowy ground, and dragged her further away from the park.

That was when Cordelia noticed someone she didn't before, some guy with dark hair dressed all in black, who seemed to be standing next to another person with similar clothing, blonde this time, and picked up her book.

He looked up and his eyes met CJ's for just that one second, and she could swear there was a glint of blue in the dark-haired boy's eyes.

CJ turned back around to Bri, still dragging her away, with the dark clouds rolling overhead in the winter sky, and it was obvious it was about to snow again. "Wait," she whispered to Brianna, who didn't stop. "Wait, look at them," she tried again, gesturing with her free hand towards the two boys.

"Nope, you're coming with me. C'mon." And Cordelia _couldn't_ object, even if she knew that she was much more stronger than her friend.

She turned back around to face the two boys, but they were gone. And so was her book.

* * *

"Where the hell are we now?" CJ asked, finally irritated. Brianna let go of her a block away from the park, and now CJ thought she got the two of them lost in New York at six o'clock at night (which CJ didn't mind; her parents don't care anyways). It's happened before.

"Let's ask the people who work here," Brianna announced. CJ followed her line of sight, which led her to look at some club called "Pandemonium," which seemed _very_ friendly-like.

"Yes, Bri," Cordelia said sarcastically. "Clubs with an entrance that's in alley ways are very comforting. Would ya like for me to ask them for hot chocolate and a blanket while we're at it? Why don't we also ask what that symbol up there means? Maybe it translates to 'creeper proof'!"

Brianna crossed her arms. "Y'know what? Maybe that imaginary 'symbol' you're talking about does translate to that! Let's go s-"

"What do you mean 'imaginary?' That symbol is real, idiot!"

"C'mon, you can ask all about it once we get in the club."

"Wait- are you seriously trying to get in there?!"

"Now I am, just to get you in a pissy mood, eh? I'm going in, you stay out here." Then Brianna swished her cocoa brown hair and snuck behind the bouncer and into the Pandemonium.

It was getting dark out, and the snow turned into a flurry, yet the cold stayed the same to CJ. She stood at the same place Brianna left her, and was ready to go inside and look for her best friend after ten minutes or so.

"Alright then," she whispered to herself. CJ hid behind the corner; she took off her glasses since people said she looked prettier without them (she didn't believe them), and partially tucked in her baggy dark blue shirt (which made a fashion statement to the busty girls at school, though CJ didn't get it). CJ wasn't (and most likely never will be) dressed to go to a club, and she just put on the clothes she's wearing without a second thought. At least she had skinny jeans on, which (hardly) emphasized the outfit that she was going out somewhere (which wasn't true at all; she had the entire day planned to herself until Bri came).

She snuck behind the guard as she saw Brianna do fifteen minutes ago, which was easier than it looked, and, to act like she was meant to be at the club, she winked at a random pale guy with glasses and a cool, geeky-looking t-shirt.

_Christ_, CJ thought, _where did I learn to do all that?_

"I just need to find Bri, then we can get outta here and have some actual hot cocoa." she mumbled to herself.

She walked over to find a table with plastic cups filled with something sparkling, but it didn't smell like alcohol. Picking up a cup, Cordelia was about to take a sip then search for Brianna, but someone caught at her wrist from behind.

"I wouldn't drink that," the owner of the hand said, not letting go.

She turned around and looked up to see his face, and nearly dropped the cup.

"You're one of those guys I saw at the park!" Cordelia exclaimed.

Now that he's up close, she could see him more clearly. Blonde hair, taller than her, eyes with a colour hard to tell, and a rebellious looking smirk that CJ hadn't noticed before.

"And you're one of the girls I saw at the park," he replied less accusingly but matter-of-factly, finally letting go of her hand. She set down the cup back on the table.

"Have you," CJ began, "been stalking us?"

"I think I could ask the same thing. We are in the same place at the same time after all." Cordelia noticed he had an accent, like her. It was hard to find people with accents like that around there. The mysterious blonde dude went on, "But, if I were stalking you, I'd probably have the decency and wits to notice."

She suddenly had the urge to slap the guy, but there was a gut feeling that she shouldn't. "So, what do you and your friend want? Because if you have harassment in mind, you'd both _really_ need to sort out your life choices."

His eyes gave Cordelia a cold glare. "I came alone."

She shrugged. "Tell that to the one with blue eyes."

"You have blue eyes."

"The guy with the same black clothes as you!"

He seemed to refuse to look away from her gaze at him. Cordelia felt, at the least, more superior since she spotted the other guy far away and watching them. Blondie smirked. "Don't forget weapons. The same weapons as me, too."

CJ refused to admit it, but she thought she saw a gleam come from something beside his belt. She realized he had weapons everywhere, but she didn't want to see if it was true.

The two glared at each other in silence for a long time, nobody interrupting, until Brianna seemed to find CJ.

"Hey! You made it in! How long have you been inside?" Bri asked.

CJ finally looked away from the boy. "A while. Long enough to realize you've been screwing around to get me in here, Bri."

She rolled her eyes then replied with a smile, "But you still came." She draped one of her arms over her friend's shoulders. "What were you staring at, anyway?"

She scrunched her eyebrows. "A who, not a what. And he's standing right in front of us!" She gestured at the guy, who was watching the two with amusement.

"Have you been taking drugs?" CJ gave her friend a does-it-look-like-a-sixteen-year-old-girl-that-reads-books-on-her-free-time-for-fun-would-actually-get-high look.

"I'll take that as a no," Brianna said after seeing her expression.

CJ rolled her eyes. "I'm leaving." She turned to go, then stopped for a moment beside the blonde guy. "And _you_ are coming with me to explain things." She grabbed his wrist and dragged him away from Brianna, which was easy since he wasn't resisiting. Brianna didn't object and stayed in the club.

They stopped in front of who CJ realized was the guy who came with Blondie, and she grabbed his wrist, too. "And you, too." Then she dragged both of them out of the Pandemonium club and to the nearest bench outside in the still-snowing and cold air.

The boy with blue eyes looked confused as ever, while the blonde one still seemed amused.

"What's going on?" the blue-eyed boy asked. He had an accent, too! Blondie sat down on the bench. CJ, leaving her hair down, put her glasses back on to see better and untucked her baggy shirt. Standing, she glanced at both the boys.

"Explain."


	2. Questions Aren't for Everyone

"What do you want to know first?" Blondie asked.

CJ shrugged. "What's your name? Both of you, what's your name?"

The blue-eyed boy crossed his arms. Cordelia was getting tired of thinking of their appearances to call them by and not actual names. "You just met her! We can't tell her our names yet."

She sat down on the other side of the bench, ignoring the cold. It was a bit after eight o'clock, and dark clouds still remained. A car or two would speed by every five minutes, the snow stayed a flurry, the temperature would have been freezing for others, but Cordelia didn't mind it. The cold never bothered her. All she wished for right now was to see stars for once; that was her unsaid passion. Unsaid to everyone except herself.

"Well, actually, you both have been stalking my friend and I, so at least have the decency to tell me your names?"

The blonde one shrugged. _He's actually pretty handsome_, CJ thought. _So is the other one._ She shook the thoughts away; now was not the time to be distracted.

"First off," the blonde one began. "We weren't stalking you _and_ your friend. We were only stalking you. It's less creepier once you know that. That girl, what did you call her, Brianna, just happened to call our attention to you."

"And how is that?" CJ asked.

"She made you drop your book. We heard it fall, picked it up, then we saw you see us."

She pointed her finger in the air mindlessly, pointing it out. "_That's_ it! How come only I can see you?"

Blondie shrugged while the blue eyed one stood tapping one of his feet impatiently. "Well, actually, lots of people can see us. Other Shadowhunters, demons, Downwo-"

"What? Did you just say demons?"

"Surprising how she asked about demons and not the first thing you mentioned." The blue eyed boy was the one who spoke, who then turned around and began to walk away without looking back to see if CJ or his friend were to follow. His friend _did_, in fact, stand up from the bench and walk casually after him, not bothering to run and keep up, and Cordelia decided right away to keep up with Blondie since Bluey didn't seem very talkative at the moment.

"You didn't answer my question," she reminded Blondie.

"What question?"

"Your names. You didn't tell me your names."

"Don't you tell her!" Bluey yelled from over his shoulder.

"I'm Jace and that over there is Alec. Alec, say hi."

All Alec did was wave his fingers in the air, high enough for the two behind to see, but it was only one finger. Just one.

"Okay," CJ said. "And where, exactly-"

"Nope, my turn to ask questions. How can you see us?"

That question caught CJ off guard. "Um, I-I thought you knew why I can see you and was just waiting for you to explain."

Suddenly, Alec bumped into both of them instead of being far ahead. Now, at this moment, CJ could feel the coldness in his glare when he looked her in the eye at that moment.

"She's not another Clary, Jace. Just a lost mundane."

CJ was caught off guard again, and she suddenly got the same feeling like she did at the club: to slap the speaker.

He kept his glare on her, and Cordelia could find Jace watching them. "What's _your_ name, anyways, mundane?"

She ignored that last part, unsure of what he meant by "mundane."

"CJ." That was all she replied with.

That seemed to have snapped Alec. "Your _real_ name." He didn't yell, but only said those words with poison in a calm manner. "The one your parents gave you."

The words slipped out of her before she could comprehend what she said. "Which parents? The dead ones or the careless ones I live with?"

She was proud that she caught him off guard, like her, and saw a quick expression of shock. It lasted for only a moment, but she knew it was there, then he guarded it with a colder look. "Your full name." Alec leaned closer to her harshly, and she silently stepped forward, hopeful that she didn't appear frightened.

"Your reason?" At that, she turned on her heel and just walked back to the park, hoping to find her book there, and also hoping that the two strange boys wouldn't follow. After all, it was only half past eight at night, but her parents wouldn't care.

* * *

Cordelia was sitting back on the swing she was on earlier, after giving up on the search for the book she finished a few hours ago. Those odd boys most likely had it, and she was too stubborn to turn back and search for them.

"I can just buy another copy," the girl mumbled to herself, watching her shoes kick at the dirt.

Nobody was at the park now, except for CJ, who might as well be a ghost to the place. It stopped snowing, and the temperature dropped. The moon hardly had any room to shine with all the clouds around. The girl heard the squeak of the swing as it rocked softly back and forth, and nobody called or texted her for a while.

She drew that odd symbol she saw at the Pandemonium club with her shoe. What does that even mean, and how come Brianna couldn't see it? And the same with Jace and Alec? _Now is not the time to be thinking of those random boys_, Cordelia realized. It was probably another one of those once-in-a-lifetime kind of encounters, anyways.

She listened to the wind and nothing else, for there was no other sound to pay attention to. Nobody would notice her in the park anyway, wearing those black skinny jeans, gray boots, and that dark shirt. She liked that shirt, it wasn't black, but midnight blue instead, like the sky at midnight. That's one of the reasons she chose that shirt, because of the colour. It wasn't her favourite colour, though, but she still liked it. It's also the colour of her eyes, people would say. She didn't think much of her eyes, but everyone at school would point out that it tends to stick out with her dark coloured hair and all.

The thought of those people made her think of her nickname: CJ. She didn't mind it, her adoptive parents called her that instead of Cordelia because they thought it was too long and fancy, and the nickname stuck. Although, she liked "Cordelia" better than "CJ" to be honest. She just never told anyone that.

The wind howled louder now, and she decided it was time to walk home. She also decided she could walk slow. Her phone said it was almost midnight, and still, nobody called.

She was walking out of the park and back to the streets when something wrapped around her leg and pulled it from under her, making CJ fall on her stomach.

She quickly turned onto her back and screamed, hoping for anyone to hear. That _thing_ wasn't some type of snake (which isn't that reasonable in New York) or a rabbid dog or anything. All she knew is that it wasn't human or known to be something you'd walk in the park with. And it wouldn't stop dragging her over the snow to wherever it wished to take her.

She realized whatever it was holding her leg with was sharp enough to puncture itself through her skin and cause blood to come out and onto the snow. She had to force herself not to think whether or not this monster was poisonous, after all the fantasy books she's read and how likely it would have poison and how else likely it wouldn't. She had to make herself think of ways not to die, because she still had questions for the world.

Cordelia screamed again for the heck of it, and also at the sight of whatever it was, and put both her hands on the grass, frantically searching for a rock or fallen tree branch or _something_. Finally, she caught at a rock the size of her fist and picked it up, then sat up as high as she could, and hit the monster in the eye.

The impact did nothing to even daze it for a second. She threw the rock into its open and drooling mouth and down its throat, which still did nothing.

"I know who you were speaking with, Nephilim," the monster hissed. Cordelia yelled some unladylike words in return. "Nobody will save you," it spoke again.

Cordelia saw a pole connected to the swingset, and she grabbed it, still fighting on the ground, and refused to let go. She flung her leg towards the other pole, which was not too far, and made sure it hit the monster harder than that rock from earlier could hit. She made sure to keep hitting it nobody how tired she got.

She was too scared and determined to live to let the knowledge that a monster like that was real, and that she was actually fighting one.

After as many shots as it could take, the monster finally let go, and Cordelia took that chance to stand up and run. She ran the opposite direction of the monster, but she was too slow, and it was too fast.

It caught up to get in front of her this time, then tackled her back to the ground (if monsters of the sort could do that).

At that moment Cordelia thought, _And this is how I die. Better make my last words something more than a curse._

It grew limbs, if that were any word Cordelia could use to describe, and pinned her arms and the rest of her upper body to the ground.

"You will die tonight, Nephilim. And no one will know what happened." It's mouth opened wide to show it's teeth, and Cordelia willed herself not to scream now, not this time.

Cordelia finally knew what her last words should be, and she yelled them at the monster as if her life would depend on it, which, in this case, it did. It was because she realized,_ I don't want to die_. "And you'll go back to hell." She smirked an evil, fake smirk, and waited for the end.

But the end did not come for Cordelia Johnson that night. Although, there was one thing correct about the yelling between her and the monster: it went back to where it came from.

She didn't see anything after she yelled those words, but just heard the monster scream in agony and disappear less than gracefully.

Immediately the girl stood up, looking around the dark for what it was that killed the monster. Finally, her eyes rested on two figures that she would learn to recognize anywhere. It was Jace and Alec, and the only thing she saw different about them was the fact that Jace had a thrilling gleam in his eyes.

"What the hell was that thing?" CJ asked the boys. She noticed both of them were holding shining blades, and not shining like light was reflecting off it, but actually _shining_.

She watched Jace wipe the blade clean with his sleeve as Alec replied, "A demon. You could have died." They both put the blades away.

CJ realized she was smiling, though her breathing was hard, her leg was throbbing, and her head was swimming. "But I didn't."

Alec walked up to her. "But you could have."

She clapped her hands together like a little four-year old. "But both of you came back! If you didn't come back, I'd probably have been dead, yes, but I'm not! There might be some horrifying alternate universe of me dying, but this is not that universe! I'm not dead, see?" She held her hands out enthusiastically to indicate that she wasn't dead and her face was fine and so was the rest of her body.

She saw Jace with another amused look in his eyes and said, "Your leg."

CJ's smile faded, and she realized she seemed to have been mindlessly leaving all the weight off her bad leg and on the good one instead.

Alec's attention went to her leg, then he sighed and told her to sit on the bench. She did as told, trying to hide the painful limping involved.

Alec kneeled next to her to examine her leg, them gave a look to Jace that CJ couldn't define.

"I'm fine, really," Cordelia lied.

"I tried it on Clary when something like this happened-" Jace began.

"She's not Clary!" Alec interrupted loudly. Either way, Cordelia had no clue what they were talking about. He lowered his voice when he spoke again, "Jace, she is not Clary. We can't just gain another Shadowhunter overnight. She's not Clary."

Jace shrugged. "Yeah. Clary would've stabbed that demon with a tree branch and not hit it with a rock like this one."

CJ ignored Jace's comment this time. "Were you two following me again?"

Alec poked the wound on her leg, which made her wince. "Did that hurt?" he asked.

"We were hunting that demon this time, and _you_ just happened to be in our way." Jace replied.

"Of course it hurts, you twat!" she told Alec.

"Is that how you normally speak, or are you just mocking us and our sexy accents?" Jace asked.

"Demon poison. . ." She heard Alec whisper to himself.

"Yes it's how I normally speak," Cordelia snapped, getting tired of Jace for once. "My parents were originally English and spoke to me normally, with an accent if you must, until they died, when I was seven. Anymore questions?"

"So, you're adopted then?" This question didn't come out from Jace's mouth, but from Alec's instead. It surprised her,

"Yes. . ."

"And would they mind if you didn't come home without calling overnight?"

"What kind of- what do you mean without calling?" CJ suddenly realized her phone wasn't in her pocket. Jace pointed to crushed metal pieces lying in the messed up snow. "Oh, crap! Well, whatever, it's not like I even use that!" She sighed and answered the other part of Alec's question: "And no, they obviously wouldn't mind. Any more before I fall asleep on this bench here, because it seems like I'm getting a really bad headache."

Alec sighed and stood up. Cordelia saw black spots after trying to follow his movements so quickly. "Just one more," he said. He seemed to be nicer than earlier, which would be a better start, Cordelia realized. "One more question before we bring you to the Institute. What's your full, real name? We gave you ours, so you should do the same."

She soon realized it was true. "Cordelia Johnson."

Alec, to her surprise, looked confused. "Johnson? That's not a Shadowhunter name! The demon said it knew you were Nephilim, and that is not a name of the Nephilim. . . Is that your adoptive last name?"

Her head was still swimming. "Yes."

He kneeled by the bench to face her so they could both see each other clearly. "And do you remember what your real parents' last names were?"

Cordelia would've said something sarcastic like Jace, but all she could muster was: "Would you. . . stop worrying about. . . my last name and. . . catch me if I. . ." She couldn't finish that sentence because the black spots came back to her vision, and somewhere in her mind she knew she fell off the bench, but Alec caught her.

And it still felt like she was falling.

* * *

**A/N: I hope, if you're actually reading this, that you like the story so far! Now, you might think I made Cordelia's situation like Clary's, which is partially true. Don't worry, I won't make her fall in love with Jace and ruin the Clace ship, and not ruin Malec either, calm down. This stuff is happening for a reason, and yes, I know what her original maiden name is, and maybe, it may or may not be revealed in the next chapter (I'm still debating over that). Thanks for reading, either way! ;***


	3. Small Talk

"I'm telling her." It was a girl's voice. One that Cordelia didn't recognize.

"No, you're not, Izzy." That was Alec. He sounded patient, like he needed to be when he spoke to whoever it was.

"How are you gonna tell her, then? Just make some small talk then say it randomly? 'Yes, the weather is just the same, if you wanted to know. Yes, we brought you in here because you were dying. Did I forget to mention your parents died the same night you were poisoned? Would you like cereal for breakfast? Because I think we ran out.'"

"Isabelle! Lower your voice or-"

"Alec, how long has it been? Nearly a week, right? That's about two, three more days than when this happened to Clary. She should be up by now, right?"

"She isn't Clary." Alec muttered.

That was when Cordelia realized she shouldn't have been listening. She didn't move, in case Alec, or that girl, "Izzy," were walking up to her or watching her. Instead, she just thought. _My parents are dead? That can't be true. It's not true. They're lying._

Her head moved involuntarily, and so she opened her eyes which, to her surprise, was hard to do.

"Is she up?" It was a different voice, another girl's.

"Yeah," Cordelia replied. "She is now."

She let her eyes adjust and saw where they were. Some type of, what was it, medical room? She didn't know which voice belonged to which girl, but one of them nearly looked like Alec, and the other had very, very red hair. Alec was still there, and, surprisingly, Jace was too. He stayed silent, next to the redhead. All of their heads were hovering over Cordelia's. She just realized she was lying on a small bed.

Someone, who hadn't spoken before, was also there. Someone in a hooded robe with silver hair, but his face seemed like he was somewhere around his early twenties, maybe.

_The demon put an excessive amount of poison in her._ Who was speaking? Cordelia didn't know, couldn't tell who opened their mouth, but it seemed like everyone could hear the voice too.

Jace, who probably saw Cordelia's confused expression, explained, "This is Brother Zachariah. He can speak to others with his, er, mind. Don't get confused." _That clears things up_, she thought sarcastically.

_She should stay in bed and rest for the day. You are fine now, Cordelia._ And with that, Brother Zachariah left without another sound. Literally.

She closed her eyes for just a moment. When she opened them again, she asked, "Who's Isabelle?"

The girl that could be related to Alec raised her hand confusingly.

She scrunched her eyebrows. "What did you say about running out of cereal?"

The other girl's face paled, more than everyone else's. "You heard?"

Cordelia quickly rolled her eyes. "Of course I heard. Before we get to my parents being dead, is demon poison that easy to be healed or whatever?"

Alec joined in this time: "If you have runes like a regular Shadowhunter, yes. But you didn't have runes, so we took a risk and I made Jace put an _iratze_ on you. A healing rune."

She scrunched her eyebrows. She noticed everyone was watching her carefully, and she couldn't help but feel self-conscience. "What do you mean you 'made' Jace?"

"Mundanes can't survive the runes of the Angel, so we took a chance and just hoped you weren't a mundane. I had Jace put the rune on you so if you died, it would only be his fault."

Jace lifted his hands extravagantly and put them back down to his sides. "You said you were nearly completely sure!"

Alec shrugged. "And here she is. Still alive."

The redhead rolled her eyes, which made Cordelia realize she was still there. "C'mon," the redhead said, helping the other girl up and off the bed. "I'll show you to the shower. And it looks like my jeans might fit you. I'll figure out the shirt . . I'm Clary by the way. You're Cordelia, right? I remember Brother Zachariah said your name."

Cordelia nodded. _That's_ who Jace kept talking about, and who Alec kept saying wasn't her. Clary showed her to the bathroom, and Cordelia cleaned herself up. After all, there was no way she'd be consumed in bed all day when her parents were supposedly dead.

* * *

After Cordelia came back in what she figured was the infirmary, nobody was there. They all seemed to have left. She decided to look for someone she saw earlier, at least, and wandered out of the room and into the halls.

Clary was right, her clothes _did_ fit. She gave Cordelia regular, black jeans and a t-shirt that said "Made in Brooklyn" (which was a bit too big on her).

As she walked, she thought. The girl noticed everyone she saw earlier was wearing at least one article of clothing that was black. The weapons Jace pointed out at Cordelia when she first spoke to him wasn't on him, or anyone else, anymore.

They all seemed a tad interested, but not as much as was uncomfortable, thank goodness. Maybe what Alec and Jace kept talking about was true; something of the sort that happened to Cordelia could've happened before, maybe with that girl Clary. After all, every one of them seemed to have seen something similar in the past. Well, everyone except Brother Zachariah. He just seemed genuinely concerned.

Sooner or later, the girl began to have her thoughts wonder into the idea of her parents dying. She may have said a thing or two that would count as unloving or rude, but that feeling only ran most of the time. Really, those adoptive parents didn't give a crap about her, but they were her _parents_. They gave her food and a room to shut her in, and the love was forced to be unconditional-

"Stop it." Cordelia said out loud to herself. She should be grieving. _Is it bad to feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders because of death?_ she thought. Honestly, all the memories the Johnson parents gave her were of negligence the moment she turned eight. At least she felt bad for not trying to care. . .

She stopped at large French doors and opened them silently, peeking her head in.

The first thing Cordelia saw were books. Many, _many_ books. It was all that attracted her in the room, really. She would have walked straight inside, but the room seemed a bit occupied.

It was Clary and Jace. They were sitting down next to each other, _extremely_ close to each other, and Clary was looking at the pages of a book while Jace stared at her from the corner of his eyes adoringly. The girl didn't notice, though. She just kept reading, muttering the words to herself, and actually seemed interested.

Cordelia sighed, popping her head out the door and back into the hall, silently shutting it from behind. _I wish someone would look at me like that._

She ended up finding her way to the kitchen sooner or later, and found Isabelle inside, cooking something that smelled like rotten fish with eggs.

"Afternoon, Cordelia," the other girl greeted. "Want some soup?"

Cordelia shook her head. "Umm, no thanks. I'm not that hungry anyways." That was a lie. She smiled at Izzy, who returned a friendly smile back. She eyed Cordelia's shirt for a moment, then shrugged and went back to her cooking.

"Good idea." someone whispered from behind. Cordelia, startled, turned around swiftly. It was just Alec.

"Mind telling me where we are so I know where to go?" she whispered back.

"Hey, Cordelia," she heard Izzy call. "Don't mind Alec. My older brother just feels like he needs to be distracted after his boyfriend broke up with him. You don't _need_ to talk to him." She went to face her cooking after she said that.

Cordelia glanced at Alec, who was glaring at Izzy. He turned around and walked out of the kitchen, Cordelia followed and trying to keep up with his pace.

"Where do you plan on going?" he asked, as if Isabelle didn't say what she did. She wondered if that was true.

"My house," she shrugged. "To get my stuff."

"And where, exactly, do you plan on living? Since your parents are dead, after all."

She turned to face him better. "First, those were my adoptive parents. Second, I'll find somewhere. Just tell me where we are." She knew that second thing was a lie; there's no other place to live that she knew of.

He nodded. "Well, you'd just be fortunate enough to hear me say that they, your parents, were killed by the same type of demon that attacked you. Same species. Same poison. But they were actually killed. That's how we know. It's also how I know where you live. Demons attacking mundanes isn't something we're used to hearing. I guess they knew the demon that attacked you, and they wanted some revenge. All therefore, we were generous, and emptied out your room."

They were in a hallway she couldn't recognize. If Alec left her alone, she may be lost in here for days. "And how, exactly, is it fortunate you emptied my room?"

The boy shrugged. He seemed quiet. "Well, we also put everything from your room in one of the rooms here. Two doors away from Izzy, to be exact. You can move the furniture if you don't like how they set it-"

"Are you serious?!" Cordelia was astonished that it seemed they even cared, and now Alec basically explained that she'd be living here. It was generous, but she _literally_ only spoke to those boys for _one night_. "You can't just let me move in here without having much knowledge of me! I could be a psychopathic serial killer."

Alec stopped by a door in the middle of a hall. He leaned against the door frame nonchalantly and said, "You're not a psychopathic serial killer, though. This is your room." He gestured toward the door. "You're a Shadowhunter, did you know that, Cordelia? The _iratze_ worked on you. You didn't die. We can train you, and you can live here. Izzy and I live here. So does Jace. In fact, I'm surprised you two aren't related. Sarcastic comments, odd family tree, snarky glares."

She crossed her arms. "I do not have snarky glares!" She glared at him, then opened the door to her new room.

The idea of actually living in such a large place with people she didn't know as well as she wished consumed her thoughts. She would have to know what they were talking about, though. And her new room had all of her furniture in places she'd prefer not to be placed in that order except her bed. Her bookcase next to her dresser and not her bed? _I_ might _need some adjusting_, Cordelia thought. "You were right. Mind to help me move furniture around? I need to put the book and movie posters up at specific angles and mismatched socks on the floor at a precise setting. Unless you have some 'Shadowhunter' things to attend to?" _Whatever 'Shadowhunter' even means_, she thought.

He shrugged again, then walked inside the room to join her. "I guess I can help."

She walked over to her bookcase, gesturing that that's what they'd start on moving first. "Thanks, Alec. For everything really. Especially for calling me Cordelia." She showed where she wanted to move the bookcase, beside her bed.

Alec picked up a book that fell off when they moved it across the room. "Why for just that?"

She grabbed the book from him. "I hated it when everyone called me 'CJ.' Is this the book I dropped at the park?"

He gave her the smallest of a smile. "Yeah, Jace didn't think that first time we saw you would be the last. He put it on this shelf once he saw that you'd be moving in. Don't get used to that 'generosity,' by the way. He probably put it here because it was a good book he supposedly read."

She glanced at his watch and saw it was almost three. Isabelle _was_ right, it was the afternoon. Maybe it seemed so dark in this new room of hers was because there was only a dim lamp of hers in the shape of an owl glowing, and the curtains at the windows were closed. She'd have to put up her curtains with the theme of one of her favourite television shows up later.

"And who's the younger brother?" The moment she asked that, he froze.

"What are you talking about?" Alec straightened up, now seeming to be scarily on edge.

She shrugged, attempting to be nonchalant. "Well, Isabelle said 'older brother,' and I just assumed there must've been a younger one." She became to get uncomfortable with the silence that she was the cause of. "You don't have to explain anything, actually. Not if you don't want to."

It seemed like Alec was about to say something cold to her, but someone knocked on the door. She couldn't decide whether that was good or bad.

"Cordelia?" It was Isabelle. She peeked inside the room and saw the mess that was made. "Redecorating, I see. Well, you have to finish that later. Brother Zachariah has been wanting to see you."

* * *

The Silent Brother was inside the weapons room, which Cordelia didn't even know they had until now. He was examining various weapons when she came in, and did not turn around when the door creaked open.

"Brother Zachariah?" She shut the door behind her. The girl seemed peculiar to him; and yet, familiar. Maybe he could have passed by her without either of them noticing; he didn't know, which bothered him more than it should.

_I see you're doing well._ The way he "spoke" to her still seemed like she thought it was odd. He couldn't blame her, or any other Shadowhunter. They all just aren't as used to the way the Silent Brother communicate. At least he didn't have his eyes or mouth sewed shut, like the others.

"Uh, yes, I still feel quite weird, actually, since I slept for five days straight." She swayed up and down with her toes and heels, hands clasped behind her back politely. Not politely, but _shyly_. He was used to gestures of those being unsure, though. She looked like a little girl now, with a small smile as she swayed, but he knew she was sixteen and that that smile was an awkward one.

_They sent me, on the fourth day, to make sure you were well. A new Shadowhunter as old as you are is not something we see everyday._ He paused, then looked up from the table. _Have they informed you about the Shadow World, yet, Cordelia?_

She shook her head no. Brother Zachariah picked up a _stele_ from the table and walked up to Cordelia. He told her what it does, no sugarcoating, no extreme details, just information. It was passed down from generation to generation, but he did not explain that. It was not _his stele_, but he did not tell her so, either.

"And you're giving it to me?" She didn't interrupt the entire time he spoke. "Just like that? You can't even be completely sure I'm a 'Shadowhunter' or _whatever_ you all call it."

He placed it in her hands, and, fortunately, she did not drop it. She was reluctant, though. To Cordelia, it felt as if something great were being placed in her hands, something so small, yet very powerful. She wouldn't be surprised if that were true.

Brother Zachariah watched as her eyes examined the peculiar thing, and as her eyes searched silently at the _stele_, he realized that he's seen those eyes somewhere. A _very_ long time ago.

It brought back memories before he could stop it: endearing memories; painful ones. He hoped what he thought of this girl was correct. But at the same time, he could not wish more to see it not be true.

_It is not yours, yet, Miss Johnson, _he finally said._ I can give you this stele as a gift, but I cannot just yet. You must keep this, and will not lose it. It can save your life, as long as you save it from its destruction or being lost._ He would have sighed for a dramatic pause if he could. _Before I hand it to you forever, I must tell you I know 'Johnson' is not a Shadowhunter name. Alec Lightwood told me what he knew of you. I know you had a different name before being adopted. Do you remember what it is?_

She breathed in a dramatic pause, looking into Brother Zachariah's eyes. They were worried, as if she knew the answer could lead to many things. "Yes." She nodded reluctantly, clutching the stele with one hand, carefully. "Yes, I remember the last name I was born with." She closed her eyes for a moment, and opened them again with an exhale of nervousness. The Silent Brother watched her with careful eyes, patient. He _knew_ that voice, that accent, he's heard it somewhere, yet he wanted to believe it wasn't true.

"My adoptive parents, after my actual ones died, decided to keep my first name, Cordelia. Though, they wanted me not to remember the past, and so I was nicknamed CJ. But I didn't let myself forget. I didn't want to forget, and so I haven't." She was still hesitant, but Cordelia knew she could trust Brother Zachariah. Somehow, she knew.

_Can you tell me? Are you okay with saying it?_ As badly as he wanted to know, he didn't want to let her feel uncomfortable about telling someone as equal as a complete stranger something that seemed so personal.

She balled her free hand into a fist at her side, afraid of saying the name after so many years. A name her adoptive family had forbidden to let her speak of. The girl took another shaky breath before saying what Brother Zachariah couldn't bear to hear again.

"Herondale."

* * *

**A/N: I hope you liked this chapter, it took me a while to write :) If you're wondering why I couldn't have made Cordelia any softer about her (dead) adoptive parents, or why I couldn't make them nicer to her, I just need to say she _is_ grieving, actually. She grieves with silence and distraction, in which you'll see more of later on in the story.**

**And for that last word before the author's notes over there, yeah, that's true. The next chapter wouldn't be too surprising either. . .**


	4. Without the Other's Knowledge

**A/N: Aww, I just read that one scene with Tessa in it, Clockwork Princess, Chapter 23: Than Any Evil, and I realized I made a mistake in here: Je- *ahem* sorry, Brother Zachariah had his hair going from silver back to his original, black-brown state. Forgive me on this one, but when I read that part a while ago, I was mostly focusing on trying not to cry (I failed) instead of his streaked silver/brown/black hair. So, just make that certain Silent Brother's hair completely brown now (hence this takes place between the books of City of Lost Souls and City of Heavenly Fire, in which his hair should be completely brown by now). **

**ALSO, it's hard for me to write as J- ****_BROTHER ZACHARIAH _****(dammit) if he doesn't meet your standards in this fic. It's also difficult for me to not say what I almost accidentally said in this author notes here, and hard not to say anything that I happen to know of in the past.**

**The reason for all of this is because:**

**1) If a reader hasn't finished Clockwork Princess (or the Infernal Devices, in general), I don't want to spoil it for them. And**

**2) I want it to be that you wouldn't ****_need_**** to read the Infernal Devices in order to understand my writing here, which is also the same way Cassandra Clare has said in an answer from a question I saw on Tumblr. **

**I'm trying to make it so that you wouldn't ****_need_**** to know about the ancestors of the main (and basically just about all) characters in the Mortal Instruments, though you'd still be able to understand my fanfic here on an emotionally unstable state if you have read the Infernal Devices.**

**SO BASICALLY WHAT I'M TRYING TO SAY IS: I'm sorry if the way I write how Je-****_BROTHER ZACHARIAH_**** sees things doesn't exactly meet your precise expectations based off how a completely different and official writer wrote it, but I'm doing my best. AND I'm trying hard not to have J-****_FRICK FRACKING ZACHARIAH BY THE ANGEL _****anything in here be said that is related to what happens in the Infernal Devices because I DO NOT WANT TO SPOIL ANYTHING.**

**P. S. I swear I am not trying to be funny it's just I can't undo BROTHER ZACHARIAH'S original name whether I'd wish to completely rip out my soul and serve it to Raziel himself to feed on in the highest clouds of Heaven where certain dead fictional characters are waiting to feast upon my _will_ in the meantime. (Somebody should understand _w_hat I mean by that _i_tal_i_cized he_ll_ of a word.) Anyways, read on, my Fanlings™.**

* * *

Isabelle turned her ear away from the door and faced her brother.

"Did she really say what I think she said?" Izzy whispered.

He pulled his ear away and grabbed her arm, pulling her. "We weren't even supposed to be eavesdropping!" He whispered loudly into her ear.

She replied with the same volume. "It wasn't eavesdropping! Just. . . Listening without the other's knowledge."

"So, a long phrase for eavesdropping."

"It wasn't eavesdropping!" She put a finger to her lips, gesturing for them to be quiet, and pressed one ear to the door.

* * *

Cordelia could see Brother Zachariah's face pale, but it was such a little difference, you wouldn't be able to tell if you weren't as perceptive.

She could feel herself go paler, too, after saying that one name and having it sound both like having all the air knock out of her lungs in the process, and also as if she could finally breathe again and inhaled so desperately for air she didn't need at the moment, it could have been a painkiller. Was her saying only a name to be relief letting go of all the stress in her life, or vice versa?

She wanted to ask Brother Zachariah what he knew of her original name, but she could already feel the discomfort in the knowledge of what she just told him.

* * *

"They aren't even saying anything." Alec whispered. "Maybe we should leave before one of them open the door. . ."

Isabelle stepped on his foot with one of her high heels. "Shut up!" she whispered back as he clutched that one foot in both hands and hopped around the other for balance.

* * *

Brother Zachariah didn't know how he'd handle this news he was expecting, but he didn't know it would feel like this.

There used to be one Herondale in the New York Institute, and now there's two? He can't seem to stay sane long enough for what may happen in the future with both of them under the same roof. Now, he must be careful of the two.

He did, eventually, realize that, of course her name would be "Cordelia." It was the name of one of her great-grandmothers, who happened to be married to James Herondale. . . The Cordelia back then had a last name that-

He could not think of that now. Not of her family tree, and the other families who are tied within, for Silent Brothers are supposed to sever all the bonds and ties between them and the mortal world.

The girl was the one to break the filled silence. "Brother Zachariah? Would you like for me to give this back to you?" She held up the stele. A stele the Silent Brother secretly kept track of, in case it being lost from the bloodline. A bloodline that he felt, even if forbidden, to know of as long as he still lived. He did not hand it down to Jonathan, or Jace as they usually call him, for he would not accept the stele if Zachariah _did_ attempt to give it to him. The owner of the last Herondale that owned that stele died with no one else to claim it, and so he found it and waited to see another of the bloodline.

He shook his head, finally able to reply: _No. You can keep it as long as you are in need of it._

He watched her observe the stele once again. Her eyes wandered at the bird, a heron, the crest of the Herondales, as every family had one. It was popped out a bit, since it was supposed to, like a mold.

_I knew the first, original owner of the stele. You seem much like that ancestor of yours, Miss Herondale._ She stared at him. _As I said, do not lose it._

His words were carefully chosen, as they always had to be when he spoke of things personal like this, even if it were so little.

"Th-thank you." That was all she seemed able to say.

* * *

"Isabelle!" Alec whispered loudly in his sister's ear again. "At least one of them is going to walk out this door any second. We need to go. As I said earlier, we aren't supposed to be eavesdropping!"

She moved her ear away from the door, as Alec did a long time ago. "Oh fine! Should we tell Jace?"

The two of them moved quickly away from the door and turned a corner, swiftly walking deeper into the hallways of the Institute.

Alec still couldn't believe what he heard. The girl that happened to meet Alec and his _parabatai_ just so happened to be a Shadowhunter, and was related to one of them? He didn't know whether that sign would be good or bad. And if either, for whom?

Meanwhile, Izzy was ecstatic. What was any reason not to be? Even if a war could be coming, one with Clary's brother as the opposing leader, it was news that she could be excited about. She could tell Jace who might be as happy as she was, and Cordelia and her newfound relative would change everything in the Institute. Even if the Lightwoods were already a family living there, why not another?

"_No_, Izzy. We shouldn't have to tell Jace if she doesn't want him to-"

"Not tell me what?"

The two siblings turned around at the same moment, oddly startled that the door to the library opened with no sound, and a body parting from the shadows of it. As he entered the light, they could see it _was_ Jace, coincidentally.

"Alec?" Jace said again, accusingly.

* * *

_You can call yourself by your original name, if you wish, Cordelia. I am not one to stop you. _Brother Zachariah put his hood up and hands back with his robe silently. He was getting ready to leave.

"I- I will. Thank you, for the stele, I mean. And are you going to inform anyone about my being a Herondale? I don't see what difference it should make, really."

He turned around. _You can inform whoever you wish, I shouldn't have to make you uncomfortable with telling others something you wouldn't want them to know. I will see you again, though I don't know exactly when._

She put her new stele through one of her belt loops. Awkwardly, she crossed her arms, unsure of anything useful to do with them at the moment. "You're leaving already?"

He smiled, but only a small one that, even if he was facing her, she still wouldn't be able to see. I came just to make sure you're doing well. Goodbye, Cordelia.

And with that, Brother Zachariah was gone.

Cordelia sat down on one of the chairs, unable to contain herself. Did she really just say something she was taught to be known as forbidden to someone as well as a stranger? She figured, of course, that the name would have to come out one day, but she did not think today would be that day.

* * *

Of all the times Alec had no clue of any word to use, it had to be when Jace asked, for the third time, what they were talking about.

"We were saying that we couldn't tell you what a certain big present of yours is gonna be for Christmas." Isabelle covered it up nicely, Alec having his eyes thank her silently. "After all, Christmas is in two days."

Jace eyed both of them carefully with his arms crossed, standing right in front of them, and shrugged. "Okay. Just don't give me another stuffed demon like last year-"

"That was a plush duck, Jace," Alec piped up.

From behind Jace, coming from the already-open library door, was Clary. She was smirking as she walked up to the three of them. "Did I just hear Jace call a stuffed duck a demon?"

Izzy smiled back mischeviously. "It's true. Do you happen to know where Simon is?"

Alec rolled his eyes. "Oh God." He walked away, heading the direction he and his sister were leaving from, which was the weapons room.

Clary shrugged. "He said his sister was in town again for the holidays. Most likely hanging out with her, probably."

She sighed. "Thanks. You two can," she squinted her eyes at Jace and Clary and smiled again, "get back to whatever you were doing. I guess I'll bother _other_ people in the meantime." And she walked away from the two, leaving them in the hall.

As Alec was walking and he turned a corner, he was immediately startled by the figure of a Silent Brother right in front of him, almost walking straight into each other.

"Ah! Sorry, Brother Zachariah. I didn't really hear you coming. . ." Alec wanted to slap himself right then. Of _course_ he didn't _hear_ a _Silent_ Brother.

_No worries, Alec. I'm only about to leave the Institute._

Alec began to feel he accidentally got himself into an awkward situation. "Well, Merry Christmas Eve Eve, then." He grinned innocently. Alec was sure Brother Zachariah would've smiled if it were socially acceptable.

_Right. Merry Christmas Eve Eve, Mr. Lightwood._ And they turned away from each other and walked in opposite directions. Alec couldn't help but feel a little guilty when he tried to speed walk away.

_Alec_.

"Oh no." he muttered under his breath, and turned back around with a tiny, nervous, smile.

_The next time you or your sister try and eavesdrop, make sure you aren't so loud. As for what Cordelia and I were talking about, you'll have to ask her yourself_. After saying that, Brother Zachariah turned around once again, and finally left Alec alone in a hall.

He cursed under his breath. The Silent Brother probably realized that Alec was going to try and talk to Cordelia about what they discussed. He began to walk again towards the weapons room, which happened to be only one more hall away.

The moment he stood in front of the door and turned the knob, he braced himself for whatever surprise could make way. After all, he hardly even knew Cordelia.

He walked inside, looking around, and found her examining a small throwing knife. Her back was facing him, making it unable to see who creaked the door open unless she turned around. She didn't.

He continued walking silently, getting closer to her, until he ended right behind. Unsure of what to say, he just cleared his throat. Without turning around, still, Cordelia asked, "Yes?"

Feeling awkward, Alec spoke. "Brother Zachariah said you were in here," he lied.

At that she finally looked up, her stare scarily blank. "Yeah? What else did he say?"

Silently panicking, Alec blurted the first thing that came to mind: "That you might also want to go to the sight where your adoptive parents were killed?"

She looked so taken aback, Alec was afraid Cordelia might stab him with the throwing knife in her left hand. "N-no thanks. But I still need to finish with my new room. Are you still up for helping?"

Alec figured that very moment that he could ask about Cordelia and Brother Zachariah's conversation while he was helping her with her room. "Yeah. Sure, let's go, then."

She set down the knife onto the table, following him out the door. A moment after she took a step away from the table, something seemed to drop on the floor. Swiftly, but not quick enough for Alec not to see, she scooped it up from the floor and into her pocket. Aware of his sudden tension, Cordelia piped up, "Let's go, then."

Alec turned back around to face the door and walked out, not having to check behind if she was following since her footsteps interrupted the usual silence. _I can ask about that later, too_, he thought.

And he could have sworn there was a streak of blood coming from the palm of her left hand.

* * *

When they got inside her room, Cordelia finally calmed herself down, still shaken up from her earlier conversation with a certain Silent Brother. She was also worried that Alec might be worried of that conversation. Cordelia swore she's been conflicted with herself so many times that it's not human. She wasn't sure if she should tell Alec what she told Brother Zachariah, and if so, _how_? Would the topic come up nonchalantly, or would he be curious himself and blurt out stupid questions?

"Hold on," Cordelia told Alec as he shut the door. "I need to fix my hand real quick." She rapidly searched for her mini first-aid kit that would normally be in her room.

"What happened to your hand, anyways?" Alec had asked, seeming to help her open the kit although she didn't ask for him to.

She shrugged, unrolling a wrap to put around her hand. "The throwing knife I was holding asked for a ravishing fight between itself and my palm. Though I told it not to, they had an epic battle. Quite a shame really, that my hand lost. It could have been well for stabbing things than _being_ stabbed."

He pulled the wrap away from her hand too quick for Cordelia to react, and revealed a stick-thing. She realized it looked almost like what Brother Zachariah gave her. . . What was it called? Oh, a stele.

He drew something that spoke of goodness, right next to the cut. "It's an _iratze_, a healing rune. The same rune we used on you the night you came here. You wouldn't remember."

She laughed, but not at the obviousness, as she stared at the finished symbol with curiosity. "Funny, actually."

"What is? The rune?" He put the stele away, his facial expression hardly asking anything that his mouth spoke.

"No, not the rune you blithering idiot. The thought behind it. See? You all hardly know me, just met me, in fact. I may have stayed for almost a week but I hardly spoke the entire time, my being unconscious and all. It got me wondering: why are you all so accepting? In my being here, actually letting me live, and all. This type of generosity isn't very usual to not be questioned."

He stared blankly at the girl, as if having to slowly replay what she said in his mind. "'Blithering idiot'?" was all he replied with.

She couldn't help but smile a friendly smile, like one might give to a younger sibling when they made a slight fool of themselves. "Haven't you heard of Harry Potter, read it, or seen the films, at least?"

The blank look stayed on his face. "No. Should I have?"

Cordelia could suddenly feel her eyes physically brighten, even if that were impossible. She turned a full half circle around the room, surveying the area, until what she was looking for came into view. "Right here!" She grabbed the first book of the series, that way Alec would be able to read the first summary and not get confused. Carefully, she handed the book to him, watchful as he read the passage she gestured for him to read. She didn't want him to accidentally bend or rip a page.

Her gaze was still on him as he looked up, trying not to seem hopeful. She never cared of the way others would look at her oddly for not hiding her love of books. She became awfully used to questions like "Why do you even like reading," or "What's so special about books," and the like. It's not like society judged those who were unhealthily obsessed with cats as much as one was with books. She believed it to be disappointing and the idea of books no longer becoming something "mainstream" would most definitely lower the IQ of the entire country, as it were supposed that many years ago books were the new obsession. And by many, she thought, meant two centuries.

"I don't know," Alec finally spoke. He handed the paperback back to her. "I've always had mixed feelings about reading."

Cordelia set it down onto her headboard right behind her bed (obviously, as that was where headboards were usually located), since all her favourite books, all mainly in series, were arranged. Realizing someone misplaced all of them, since they were _completely_ out of order, she began to mindlessly arrange them as she felt comfortable. Honestly, the entire shelf was disorganized, which clearly meant someone must have searched through her belongings.

"Well, at least you didn't say that you found literature useless," she said. "I mean, I've read so many books and can talk about anything similar to it for an entire week without stopping! As much as I love things like that, it's often rare to find someone who won't get bored of you, and so I've taught myself to keep quiet, sadly. Funny how the human mind is supposed to adapt more intelligently, but it's becoming most the opposite. But you should really give Harry Potter a try! Or _any_ book, at least. 'If you say you don't like reading, it's only because you haven't found the right book yet.' Oh, sorry, I'm raving on again! Well, I'm not _all_ that sorry. Here, can you move the dresser over there?"

Alec pushed the light dresser to where Cordelia had pointed, seeming to mindlessly speak as she just did. "Weird how you're sarcastic phrases still seem to stick out like Jace's. Figures."

She scrunched her eyebrows, finally finished with the bookshelf. "What's weird?"

As if realizing he said what he did out loud, he straightened as soon as the dresser were in place. "To answer your earlier question, we've accepted you here, as you said it, because now it isn't the first something like this has happened." Cordelia pretended not to notice that he changed the subject. "You can ask Clary about it."

Usually, as she realized very long ago when Cordelia asked her adoptive parents where her real ones were, someone tends to change the subject if they either know something you don't, or are too uncomfortable or have too many emotions about the topic to go on about it. Well, either those options, or they're just disloyal bastards, but sometimes there seems to be no difference between what they know and what they are.

"Thanks for your help, Alec. It's been a while since I've had just a regular conversation." Looking around her new room, she realized everything was where it could comfortably be.

Alec began to walk towards the door. "No problem. Follow me. My mom said she'd want to talk to you once you're well enough, and that grin seems like you are. She should be back by now. . ." And with that, he opened the door and left the room, not bothering to turn around and check if Cordelia was following.

* * *

They walked the halls in partial silence, Cordelia's shoes softly squeaking as she walked while Alec was soundless.

She didn't know exactly where his mother was, and she doesn't remember seeing the woman anywhere, in which case the girl was scared.

When Alec opened one of two large doors, she realized it was the library from earlier, the one where Clary and Jace were. She doesn't remember seeing anyone else but those two in there!

The woman's back was facing the door, and at first she seemed to be Isabelle. When she turned around as if sensing the others' presence, Cordelia realized she could be a close reflection of Izzy, but taller and more bonier. "Alec," the lady finally spoke. As if just noticing who was behind him, she added, "Is this-"

"Yes," her son interrupted. Cordelia was amazed at how she could see the family resemblance so well. He walked towards his mother, Cordelia following behind, making sure to close the door. She was nervous, yet she didn't find any reason to be. When they were standing in front of his mom, who was seated at a large desk, he said,"This is Cordelia. . . Johnson?" He turned his head to face her questioningly.

That was when she made a quick decision right then: Herondale was her true name, and so she should be proud of it. After all, what difference would it really make with people she's just met? "No," the girl finally spoke. "I-It's Herondale. Cordelia Herondale."

At the very first mention of the name, the other woman's eyes widened microscopically as she immediately stood up, scooting out the chair she was seated on. She glanced between the two teenagers, and the girl realized that maybe she was wrong about differences with people she's just met. Cordelia was too nervous to watch Alec's reaction. "Is it really?" Mrs. Lightwood asked her.

Cordelia nodded nonchalantly. "Since I was born."

The lady turned to her son. "Do the others know?" Alec shook his head. The girl was about to blurt out why the others would need to know, but realized that would sound a bit rude.

"Then go get Jace," she said. "And _only_ Jace, Alec."

And with that, the only person Cordelia had a conversation with about things completely irrelevant was gone. Now it was just her and Mrs. Lightwood.

"Sit down Cordelia," the woman said, sitting back down herself and gesturing towards the chair across from the desk. The girl sat.

"I'm sorry I haven't introduced myself, yet. Isabelle-you've met her, right- called me when you woke, and I was at the Silent City during the time. See, I run this Institute, and was taking care of some business with the Silent Brothers and had one of them stay to make sure you stayed well while I was gone. I'm sure you've met Brother Zachariah, at least?"

She nodded. Mrs. Lightwood spoke as if they've known each other for a long time, making the other person feel welcomed. Although, Cordelia was never used to talking to a mother so regularly.

"Good. You seem to have popped up at the most unfortunate times, Cordelia. Many of it is hard to explain, but there will be a war coming, one-"

"Maryse?"

Neither of the two realized someone had opened the library doors. They both turned to face whoever spoke.

"Jace, come here." So that was Mrs. Lightwood's name? Maryse? The two boys walked over to them, Alec's mom still speaking.

"I wanted to tell you about-" she turned to Cordelia, "is it okay with you if I tell Jace your last name?"

The girl, surprised, shrugged nervously. "Err. . . Sure."

"I wanted to tell you about Cordelia."

Alec crossed his arms at that comment, standing behind Jace, seeming uninterested.

At that, Jace raised his eyebrows playfully, and looked at the girl. "Sorry, but I don't plan on getting too close to her." He leaned on the table.

Maryse spoke again, seeming unfazed by his comment. "You will once I say that the both of you could be related."

Both Jace and Cordelia immediately stood up straight, the girl having pushed her chair swiftly backwards, both of their eyes widened. Then, they both looked at each other straight in the eye, as if sizing the other one up. As if searching for things to prove they had no similar blood. Neither of them were paying attention to either of the Lightwoods in the room, both still and astonished.

"What do you mean they could be related?" It was Alec who broke the never ending silence.

Jace interrupted before Maryse could speak, still not breaking eye contact with Cordelia when he said, "You're mistaken, Maryse. I'm the last of my blood."

* * *

Alec stepped closer towards his _parabatai_, not that it would make any difference. Jace was so stubborn, obviously staring back at Cordelia until she would look away to prove he was more superior. Well, obvious to Alec. And Cordelia? She didn't look away. It was as if she was glaring back to prove the same thing.

Alec thought it would be hard to pretend to be surprised; it wasn't. Now, since the two were nearly next to each other, he could begin to see the resemblance, and it was hardly physical: Snarky comments, so sarcastic; their unsaid promise to prove they're worth something; the stubborness; the aura. All so scarily similar.

"Well, Jace," Alec's mother said. "Apparently you're not the last."

Alec's arms were still crossed when Jace lifted his chin ever-so slightly and finally looked away to face Maryse. "It wouldn't matter anyways. I'm a Lightwood. I don't even see anything that makes us related!" Cordelia now had a poker face, and the only emotion visible was the confusion in her eyes.

Alec's mother sighed. "I know you're a Lightwood, too, Jace. My adoptive son. But we both also know what you're real bloodline is consisted of, and-"

"I don't care! My real dad doesn't matter, and you know why. I wasn't even raised to _believe_ in Herondales, and I ended up living with you, the Lightwoods, and that was _good_ _enough_. Must I keep repeating names for someone to understand? There is no way either of us could be related! I have been told too much to know now what is a lie and the opposite, and this is a lie, Maryse!"

It was times like this that Alec wanted to remember. Jace was never so straightforward about who his family was other than his _parabatai_ and Clary, and he and Alec hardly ever spoke about that topic. Yet, he didn't understand why Jace was suddenly lashing out like this.

"Someone must still be on their emotionally reckless teenage phase," Cordelia muttered. But it was still loud enough for them to hear; for _Jace_ to hear. Alec knew she's done it.

He pointed accusingly at her. Alec saw his mother tense.

"Quiet! You shouldn't even be here. Just another filthy mundane we picked up off the street! You wouldn't know a thing about any of this if it weren't for me. Hell, Cordelia, you wouldn't even know about me! The two of us wouldn't know each other, let alone have you believe we're related. We could've both just walked the opposite directions and go on happily our own ways, so just shut up and-"

"Now you're pointing fingers at me!" she said extravagantly. She didn't yell back like Jace, no, she only spoke with a glare. "Don't you dare tell me to shut up. You came walking in here with that ridiculous smirk as if nothing unfortunate ever crossed your mind, and said comments to imply that, too. Now, because of one little sentence, hell has broken loose inside you. There must obviously be something you aren't saying, and same with me! You have absolutely no right to point straight at my face and say this is none of my business!"

Nobody bothered to interrupt her, since it was probably the most that's been said aloud since the day she arrived, not considering Alec. Cordelia said each word with the type of poison that could enter and dismantle your brain before you knew what's happening, the kind that hurts worse when it was all over, and that's not all of what frightened Alec. What made a shiver go up his spine was that she still was not yelling. She spoke words carefully and calm, the most dangerous kind.

"You seem to think that I don't have feelings?" She continued with an inferno in her eyes. "You think I haven't felt loss too? Living the first seven years of my life thinking that nothing could ever go wrong, then existing, only _existing_, from then to the day I came to the Institute finally having been broken down to believe the happiest years of my life were daggers to the throat?

"I lived in England since I was six, Jace, then my family moved here. It was the same place where they ended up dying by Hell knows what. Next thing I know, an American family comes to adopt me and I believe that I can start over again without having to care about the world. And y'know what they do? They tell me I am not allowed to speak the name of my true blood, the name that told me everything that what other kids dreamed of would be my nightmares to fight in the real world. Those people taught me that saying my real name was considerably illegal to them.

"They said there was never a Cordelia Herondale. They taught me my name is Cordelia Johnson. They led me to understand that I would be called 'CJ' for the rest of my time with them, yet they never asked if I cared about it. When their very own kids had everything thrown at them with passion, I was left with the crumbs the other kids didn't want. I didn't understand why they would choose to adopt me if they were only having me in the house to do chores and watch horses get fed sugar cubes while I was the ass. I realized they expected me not to remember those seven years because they thought I was still too young.

"So, to your surprise, Jace, you're _wrong_. When you brought me to the Institute, I already knew of what you said just a few moments ago that I'd have no knowledge of without you. And that was a statement so wrong.

"When I told those adoptive parents of mine that I was seeing what they could not, they didn't train me to be a perfect little angel afterwards, like you. No. They entered me into a mental hospital because I knew the truth. My real father taught me how to throw knives on my seventh birthday, and whenever I tried to practice at my new 'home' they would slap me and yell at me and say girls can't handle weapons.

"When you say I'm a mundane and don't know what any of you are talking about, you. Are. Wrong. I know more than the average Shadowhunter shouldn't even bother to think about in their lifetime, and it's because I knew my parents for seven years, and in half those seven years I actually _can_ remember, they taught me well. I don't care if you don't want to help me with any of this, but all I tell you to do is never speak of my existence as if it could not equal yours, even if I don't know it to the detail of the last grain you ate."

Alec wanted to clap right after he knew she was finished, but he figured it was a bit unacceptable to do that at the time. So instead, he just stared, like the other two in the room.

Cordelia sighed. "If none of you have anything to say, I'd like to end my teenage fit by stomping off outside."

Jace was too stricken by her speech to reply with an equally sarcastic comment, so he just said, "Why?"

Alec seemed to finally have caught his breath. "That's a Herondale."

His mother blinked. "Why do you say that, Alec?"

"Did you not just hear what she said? It's something Jace would have said. So if someone says they both aren't related, they'll have to say something pretty bizarre for me to believe that Herondales don't talk like _that_. "

Jace slightly scrunched his eyebrows, ignoring the Lightwoods for the moment. "And where, exactly, would you be stomping off _to_?"

Cordelia crossed her arms stubbornly. "To my old house."

At that, Maryse and Alec turned their heads. "Why?" Alec exclaimed. "Didn't you just deliver a speech of how your adoptive parents aren't worth it?"

She rolled her eyes. "Of course I did. But if there's one thing I learned all those dreadful years, Alec," she stepped aside to push her chair in, and began to walk towards to library doors with her hair swishing gracefully around, "those people were also the reason that my real parents are dead."

And with that she was out of the room.

"Well?" It was his mom. "What are you two thinking? You better go with her!"

Jace looked at his _parabatai_ who shrugged, then they left following to where Cordelia went off.


	5. Deleted scene 1! Small Talk

**A/N: Deleted scene time!**

**Okay, I'll be moving from one state in the US to another that is on the other side of the country, and we'll be driving there, so it'll take pretty long. I'm not sure if I'll have time to write while in the car or anything, so I decided to post this deleted scene! Just for entertainment, y'know.**

****This scene takes place in chapter 3, "Small Talk" When Alec and Cordelia are having a little chat. Remember, I didn't publish this in there, so it must be recognized as non-canon, or like it didn't truly happen in the actual story.****

**I know the little moment is short, but it would have played an important role if I kept it in. Instead, I twisted things up (in the canon stuff) just a little.**

* * *

"And where, exactly, do you plan on living? Since your parents are dead, after all."

She turned to face him better. "First, those were my adoptive parents. Second, I'll find somewhere. Just tell me where we are." She knew that second thing was a lie; there's no other place to live that she knew of.

"You're a Shadowhunter, did you know that, Cordelia? The iratze worked on you. You didn't die. We can train you, and you can live here. Izzy and I live here."

She laughed. "For a second there, I thought you were serious. Is Isabelle your sister?"

They made it to large doors that seemed like the exit.

"Yes," Alec finally replied. "She is."

She walked out the door and, to her surprise, he followed.

"They were killed by the same type of demon that attacked you. Same species. Same poison. But they were actually killed. That's how we know. It's also how I know where they, you, lives. Demons attacking mundanes isn't something we're used to hearing. I guess they knew the demon that attacked you, and they wanted some revenge."

The two turned a corner. Cordelia was just following Alec since he basically said he knew the way to her house.

"Well, it's nice to know a man I barely know has the knowledge of my address."

She saw from the corner of her eye that he didn't roll his eyes like she's used to. "It's hard to believe you and Jace aren't related. Sarcastic comments, odd family. Talking about family, you didn't answer my last question before you fell unconscious. I asked if you knew what your original parents' last name was."

* * *

**A/N: If you didn't get what was important, Alec had the idea that Cordeloa and Jace would make reasonable relatives with their smart mouths.  
He also invites her to live in the Institute, which shows that he's actually welcoming her, which is very un-Alec-like. That means he's growing fond of her, in a friendly way, of course.**

****Like I said, this needs to be known as non-canon. It never actually happened in the story unless I write it in there.****

**Like it? Don't worry, I'll be posting more deleted scenes in the future. Thanks for reading!**


End file.
